


New Years Heartachin' Eve

by sequence_fairy



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: M/M, confessions while inebriated, gentle angst, it lasted for years, oh the pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: He’d timed it perfectly, waited until he’d had a couple shots for some courage, waited until Shane’s eyes were lit from within by the Old Fashioneds he’d been ordering, and then he’d made his move.Happy fuckin' New Year, indeed.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 35
Kudos: 77
Collections: Skeptic Believer Book Club Advent Calendar





	New Years Heartachin' Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Watcher-versary, here's my usual brand of sad sack holiday feelings. 
> 
> Thanks to Jo for the read-through and to the book club for making advent a celebration of fic.

Ryan goes home on New Year’s Eve, alone. 

The Lyft ride back to his new place is slow, traffic snarled by people out celebrating, loud and raucous. Fireworks light the sky. Ryan sees all of it through a blur of tequila. It’s better to know, he decides, trying for a modicum of maturity about this, than to wonder forever and to hope and to pine. Better to have been let down gently, than to go on imagining a future spooling out in front of himself. 

It’s good, too, that he doesn’t have to see anyone for almost a week. 

He’d scheduled the time off at the beginning of December, when he’d finally talked himself around to actually doing something about the feelings he’d been keeping buried for the sake of their friendship and then, once they’d left Buzzfeed for good, the sake of their livelihoods. Then Watcher had celebrated three years and a move to their own building, and Ryan had decided to take this final risk. 

Now, as the Lyft is pulling up to his building, Ryan’s really starting to feel the tequila and the swirling shame of rejection combining in his stomach. It feels like the beginning of a night spent curled up on the bathroom floor, reminiscent of nights in college, of nights out with— 

Ryan grits his teeth and gets out of the car, shutting the door and walking towards the building with careful steps. It seems like the walk is longer and more treacherous than usual, but Ryan makes it into the foyer without any further incident. 

He lets himself into his apartment and toes off his shoes, leaning back against the closed door. Letting his head tip back, Ryan closes his eyes. So much for big risk, big reward. He has to press the palms of his hands against the door to stop the feeling of the floor spinning out from under his feet. This was big risk, big, stomach-churning failure. 

Ryan wants to throw up. 

He’d timed it perfectly, waited until he’d had a couple shots for some courage, waited until Shane’s eyes were lit from within by the Old Fashioneds he’d been ordering, and then he’d made his move. 

They were alone, near the back of the dance floor, watching the bar heave and jump. It was not quite eleven-thirty. Shane was a line of heat all along the side of Ryan’s body. His heart galloping in his chest, and his hands sweaty, he’d turned to Shane. 

“Hey,” he’d said. Which, looking back, as Ryan is doing, having slid to the floor just inside his door, knees pulled up to his chest, wasn’t much of an opening salvo. In his head, he’d been so much smoother than this. 

“Hey yourself,” Shane had replied, voice warm and pitched to be heard over the din. His hand was still curled around his empty glass, one finger inside the rim, holding the straw in place. The lights danced across the floor at their feet.

“Hard to believe we did it.” 

“Not so hard,” Shane had argued, cheerfully proud, as Ryan always knew him to be. “You’ve always been a go-getter.” He’d lifted his glass in a small cheers, and Ryan had nodded back. 

“You, uh, you wanna get some air?” 

Shane’s eyebrow had gone up, one perfectly questioning arch. 

Really, that should have been Ryan’s clue that Shane wasn’t at all playing on the same field, but Ryan had ignored it, just like he’s ignoring the way his stomach twists now. 

Outside, the air had been cooler, but the streets were still loud and full of people. Ryan had let his head tip back, looking up at the low clouds covering the sky. The fresh air pierced through the haze of the booze, that old false sobriety of going outside and into the night.

They walked a ways down the sidewalk from the bar, aimless, until Ryan reached out and stopped Shane with a hand on his arm. Shane looked down at Ryan’s hand as they came to a slow stop on the sidewalk, people milling around them. 

Shane’s eyes had been bright. His hair flopping down into his face and his cheeks flushed from the drinks and the fun of the party. Ryan’s own face was hot from the words gathering on the back on his tongue. 

“Shane,” he’d said, and he’d looked up, all the way up, into those dark eyes he knew so well, into that face that he’d loved so dearly for so long, and he’d watched the apprehension bloom in Shane’s eyes, watched the tightening of his jaw. Still, Ryan had barreled on. “This might seem a little sudden—” 

“Oh, bud.”

The kindness was the real killer. The way Shane had looked at him, and had so gently told Ryan no.

Ryan tips his head back against the door. They’ll be fine, probably. A little awkward for a few weeks, but Ryan’s sure he can get his feelings all back into the little box in the back of his mind where he used to keep them. He’s just lonely, and tired of being single, and Shane’s just there and conveniently also single for the first time in many years. It’s not like Ryan’s been nursing a crush for years, even before he acknowledged that’s what it was, or anything.

It would never work anyway; they work too closely together, any misstep could cost them everything. Ryan knows this. He knew that before he opened his mouth and let all his feelings pour out and watched Shane’s expression go from shock to careful neutrality. 

Ryan will be haunted by the way Shane had said his name after Ryan was done; gentle and wary, like Ryan might be a spooked horse. Ryan’s proud of himself for braving the rejection, for looking Shane in the eye, for making himself nod and agree that it was for the best, that they really couldn’t just do this. 

He’d covered up the twist in his chest that knew that Shane didn’t feel the same way, that Ryan was alone in this, in a way he hasn’t been alone standing next to Shane in many years. He’d managed to get himself away from Shane with what he hopes wasn’t all his heartbreak written all over his face. 

They’d nodded to each other, and Shane had smiled. But that smile hadn’t been the one that Ryan loves the best; wide and unfettered and full of all the good humour that Shane stores up in his bones to let out at the perfect moment. The one that transforms his face from an incongruous collection of features that don’t quite match, into a work of art that Ryan wants to look at forever. Instead, it was the careful one that Ryan hasn’t been the recipient of in almost as many years as they’ve known each other. The one Shane saves for politeness and meaningless social interaction. 

It had felt like a slamming door. 

Then, Ryan had turned, pulled out his phone, and called a Lyft, and he hadn’t looked back. Not once. He’d wanted to, desperately. Had hoped, during the entire way down the block and around the corner, that Shane would come after him, would grab his elbow, would look Ryan in the eye and tell him that he wanted this, too. 

The car had come, and Shane had not, so Ryan got into the car, and went home. 

Ryan hooks his chin over his knees, arms wrapped around his shins. His apartment is still as dark as it was when he unlocked the door and walked in. Traffic slides by on the road outside, headlights chasing each other across his ceiling and their shadows sliding across the kitchen floor.

Happy fuckin’ new year, indeed.

He’s got a week to put himself back together again. A week to wallow in the shame of rejection and to feel all the feelings he has to stop himself from feeling after that. A week to get over Shane, and at least it’s a week where he doesn’t have to see him at all. Unfortunate that all he wants to do, even after this, is see Shane. 

Ryan’s pocket vibrates. 

He fishes out his phone. The screen lights up with a goofy selfie of Shane, his hair a wild mess. It makes Ryan’s breath catch in his throat.

Ryan answers the call.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat about my fic (or the boys) either on [tumblr](http://sequencefairy.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/warpspeed_chic).


End file.
